


NYEH NYEH PASTA

by GypsumLilac



Series: Noodlepocalypse [2]
Category: Undertale
Genre: ;P, As for orientation, Don't take it too seriously, Fluffiness, Hopefully actually romantic and comedic, Other, Reader and Papyrus are already datemates, Reader and Papyrus get into an argument, Reader has undefined gender, Romantic Comedy, Spaghetti, definitely not aro., first time writing romance, it was written at like 2 in the morning, probably not ace/aro..., puns, sorry aros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9140290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsumLilac/pseuds/GypsumLilac
Summary: Papyrus and you were arguing. Then you pull the trope "if you don't like it, then take what's yours and leave." Welp, he does.





	

 "FINE!" Voice cracking, you glare through blurry eyes at the enragingly handsome skeleton staring back at you with hurt eyes. Gasping to regain your composure, you let your next words fall damningly through the air, "If That's What You Think, Then Take What's Yours And Leave." He gapes as your verbal barbs stab him. It was such a stupid argument, how could you let it get out of control?

"Very well, Human." You wince as he reverts to formal speech. "I shall not bother you with my presence any longer." You turn away to hide the tears threatening to waterfall, listening to his subdued steps as he walks out to the kitchen-

And then swivel frantically to run after him. When you reach the kitchen, your jaw drops at the pile of spaghetti containers in his arms. You cross your arms, standing in the doorway as he looks up at you from over the pasta stack. "Why- why are you taking those?" You ask, slightly offended. Spaghetti is your favorite.

"You said to take what's mine. This spaghetti is mine. So I am taking it. And leaving. Like you want me to." A guilty pang stabs through your chest at his shaking voice and the poorly hidden wetness in his eyes. "Now remove yourself from the doorway, human. Or the Gre- or I will have to remove you myself." He tries to glare back at you, but doing it over a ton of spaghetti is proving rather difficult.

You step back, sighing shakily. "Fine. Whatever. At least you still love pasta." The last sentence slips out snake-like and you almost clap your hand over your mouth. "I mean- I didn't-" your shoulders sag as he walks stoically past you to the door.

Your feet move you, against your volition, after him. It's because he has the spaghetti, of course it is. You were only ever here for the spaghetti. Right? "PAPYRUS!" The wail explodes from your lungs desperately as you stumble into a running pursuit. He turns, the containers threatening to spill from his hands. Looking into his hardened eyes, you realize it was never the spaghetti. "Why?" You ask, needing to know. "Why didn't you take me?" Tears break through the dam you raised, streaming down your cheeks and coming out your nose. In what you wished was a less sniffly voice, you ask "do you really love spaghetti more than me?" 

Your eyes widen as the containers crash to the ground, spilling tomatoey noodles all over the recently cleaned floor. You stagger gasping back, clasped firmly to the warm ribs of Papyrus. Sobs rack his ribs and yours, his skull is nestled in your neck and in your hair, your head curls against his shoulder. In a breathless whisper he says firmly, "Never. Hu- Datemate, my love for pasta runs deep and strong. But never doubt that I love you even more than that." You sniffle sardonically, past anger dying into exhaustion. He pulls back, holding your shoulders so that you're forced to look him in his stern eyes. "Was that what this was about, Datemate? You felt romantically threatened by spaghetti?"

The thought tears a snort of pained laughter from your chest. "You did take it." You point out, a bit pettily. He smiles then, a sad and slightly scary smirk. "That is because you are not mine. But, if I took the spaghetti, I would be sure to have you as well, as you can not resist my cooking!" Shocked at his ingenious, you can only stare, eyes shining.

Gasping out gently, you reply, "Well, it worked." Your lips tug upwards then in playful smirk of their own as you grab him by the sternum and pull his head down. "But if that's the case, then why don't you make me yours?" The last words are almost purred out, a flush of pleasure fluttering in your chest as his cheeks are dusted with deep orange.

His eyes sparkle, and his hands press against your arms, pulling you closer. "IS THAT- A PROPOSAL, DATEMATE?" The flush moves to your cheeks now, burning as the weight of your words drops in your chest.

"Y-yes, that is, if, you want-" smooth bone against your lips cuts off your words. A warm haze settles over your head as you press your lips back. Your eyelids flutter shut for one eternal moment, and then he draws back with a gentle smile.

"I WOULD GREATLY ENJOY THAT. BUT BEFORE WE MAKE THAT KIND OF SERIOUS COMMITMENT, WE SHOULD LEVEL UP OUR RELATIONSHIP WITH MORE DATES!! AFTER ALL, WE HAVE ONLY GONE ON ONE ACTUAL DATE AND THAT WAS... A BUST." He is back to his normal strident voice and you relish in it, nodding dazedly. His face flushes again, realizing you are still captive in his arms and stepping back to cough in what's supposed to be a dignified air. "SO, DOES THAT SOUND GOOD TO YOU?" He asks, almost nervously.

"Y-yeah, that, that sounds great, Papyrus." Then, memory of the argument comes flooding back, and you hang your head in shame. "I'm sorry," you hiccup, "for getting so worked up over such a stupid thing." Bony phalanges caress your chin, gently pushing your head up to gaze into the soft black pools of his eyes.

"YOU ARE FORGIVEN, DATEMATE. IT IS MY FAULT AS WELL FOR CONTINUING THE ARGUMENT. BUT- IN THE FUTURE- MAYBE DO NOT TELL ME TO LEAVE AS A PLOY TO TEST MY AFFECTIONS." His reprimand, while delivered in a booming voice, is as gentle as the hand cupping your face. Sniffling, you wrap your arms around his ribcage. He returns the hug, patting your back. "THERE, THERE. IT IS TO BE EXPECTED THAT YOU WOULD BECOME JEALOUS FOR ME. BUT TO BE JEALOUS OF SPAGHETTI OF ALL THINGS, DATEMATE, THAT IS ODD. SPAGHETTI CAN NOT KISS."

Buried in his chest, you mumble mischievously, "Why is it im _pasta_ ble?" Papyrus freezes. "DATEMATE," he finally groans in exasperation, "PLEASE TELL ME SANS DID NOT GET TO YOU AS WELL."

"That wouldn't make any _sans_ , now, would it?" Despite common sense, you goad him again, tilting your head up to stick your tongue out.

He steps back, betrayal in his eyes. "OKAY, THAT IS ENOUGH. OR DO YOU WANT ME TO TELL YOU TO LEAVE THIS TIME." The threat hangs heavy in his words, you know he'll make good on it.

So you lay a hand on his arm-bone, smile through hooded eyes, and purr, "What? You don't think my puns are-"

"DON'T." His eyes narrow, flashing ominously.

" _Humerus_?" You squeeze his arm lightly for emphasis, and then fall back laughing as he draws himself up and puffs out his chest. "Hehehe, you didn't like that one?" You turn to run to the living room, he stomps after you. "I've got a _femur_ where that came from!"

"DAAAATE MAAAATE!!! EITHER CEASE WITH THE PUNNING OR TAKE WHAT IS YOURS AND LEAVE!!" He cries in agonized exasperation. You skid to a stop, and turn to face him coyly.

"Okay." You say with a pounding heart, " _Tibia_ honest, I was running out of them anyway." As soon as the pun leaves your mouth you dart forward, swerving around the enraged Papyrus. Before he can catch up, you grab the few still-intact containers of spaghetti from the floor and stumble towards the door, laughing breathlessly as his cry of rage follows you.

"NOOOOO!! YOU CAN NOT TAKE THE SPAGHETTI, DATEMATE!!" You jerk back, gasping as a line of white bones shoots up from the floor and effectively foils your escape. "I SEE NOW," he stomps up to you sternly as you turn to face him. A warm jolt floods your chest and knots in your abdomen. "YOU HAVE BEEN IN LOVE WITH SPAGHETTI THIS WHOLE TIME! FRANKLY, DATEMATE, I AM HURT." He crosses his arms, hurt.

"Oh, Papyrus." The few still-intact containers of spaghetti that you hold in your arms clatter to the ground, intact no longer. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his toothy grin to your lips as your heart pulses fiercely. Pulling back, you smirk at his shining eyes, "You'd've followed if I took the spaghetti."

"NYEH. I KNEW THAT. THIS WAS THE PLAN OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS ALL ALONG IN ORDER TO RECEIVE MORE KISSES." He grins triumphantly. "AND IT WORKED, AS I KNEW IT WOULD." You slap his chest weakly, trying to frown but failing miserably.

"Well maybe I should go out with spaghetti." You joke sternly. "After all, spaghetti ca _noodles_ pretty well."

"DATEMATE- YOU ARE- IM _PASTA_ BLE." Striking a heroic pose, he continues. "BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS THE BEST AT CANOODLING, OF COURSE. NYEH HEH HEH."

And then you both go into the kitchen and cook spaghetti, almost burning the house down in the process. You get in each-other's ways conveniently while doing so, trading pecks on the cheek, or cheekbone in Papyrus's case. You two are adorable.

**Author's Note:**

> this was written on a sleepless coffee-high. And I've never written romance before. So criticism would be greatly appreciated. Especially since I feel like I'm doing something wrong with the descriptions or something but I can't pin it down. Thank you :). 
> 
> Also I haven't watched Hetalia, I've just heard about it. I CAME UP WITH THAT TITLE AT TWO AM, OK. NEVER LET ME NAME ANYTHING AT TWO AM. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and if you didn't I'd love to know what I could do to make it better :) thanks!!!


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